No More Excuses
by Tarafina
Summary: He’s got no more excuses left; it’s time to face the truth. :Logan/Marie:


**Title**: No More Excuses  
**Category**: X-Men: The Movie  
**Rating**: T  
**Genre**: Romance/Drama  
**Pairing**: Wolverine/Rogue (Logan/Marie)  
**Word Prompt**: Complicated  
**Word Count**: 744  
**Summary**: He's got no more excuses left; it's time to face the truth.

**_No More Excuses_**  
-Drabble-

His excuse was always that it was too complicated; there were too many reasons against them, and he spent so much time convincing himself he shouldn't, that he forgot all the reasons he should. He buried himself in the idea of a woman who was the complete opposite; to both himself and the woman he really wanted. And when that dream died, by his own hands no less, he was left with nothing but the want and the desire to have what he'd been painfully turning away after all this time.

There was only so much denying he could do and when he comes back he goes looking for her immediately. His head finally caught up with his heart and neither are willing to let anybody talk him out of this. So he's stomping through a mansion full of mutants that hardly recognize him and he's shouting out a name few really know, waiting for her to come running. He's not sure which to expect, out-right rage at all he's caused or simple relief that he's finally come around.

When she appears at the top of the stairs her expression shows the same confusion.

"W-What are you doin' here?" she murmurs, such a soft voice compared to the loud, hoarse shouting he'd done for her.

He's taking the steps four stairs at a time until he's nearly nose to nose with her. "I fucked up, Kid."

Her brow narrows, her lips pursing in a pout that's haunted him for too many years. "Logan…" She shook her head. Her gaze was caught by the children and teachers milling around in obvious interest, waiting and listening for some kind of explanation. "Let's talk outside, I—"

He doesn't let her finish. Fuck expectations or pleasantries or being polite to the group of strangers watching the show he was plainly giving them. "I should'a said something earlier. I should'a done something. Hell, I dunno… I got a million and one reasons why I shouldn't and didn't." He sighed, a growl of frustration escaping him. "Dammit, I don't have the words to make it up to ya and…" He shook his head, swallowing the discomfort rising in his throat. "And I'm sorry. I'm not as quick as you are in all this stuff and I didn't expect it. I didn't _want_ it. I—"

Her hand collides with his face so quickly her skin doesn't have time to react. He can feel the sting, even though it's already fading it rings in his head. He deserved that. His mouth is closed now; he's got no more to say. His half-assed apology and attempt at whatever-the-hell-this-was has been rejected. He clenches his teeth and there's a part inside him that yells not to give up so easily, pushes him to keep trying. But this is her and him and he's already hurt her so bad, given up on them before they had their chance and broke her heart in the process. His heavy boot falls back a step; retreat. He doesn't know where he'll go or what he'll do but he knows that he had to try.

"I've got no more excuses," he mutters, looks up at her, wishes he didn't cause the tears filling her eyes. He turns, ignores the way this mansion of strangers stare at him, ready to whisper as soon as he's out of sight.

He's taken one more step before her hand is on his shoulder, gripping, holding, desperate to hope.

"You do this, there ain't no goin' back," she murmurs; soft, quaking, scared.

His heart stumbles, his eyes widen and he realizes just then that maybe he never expected her to accept him. But now that she has, he's ready to do anything not to fuck it up. His hand raises, large and heavy, the complete opposite of the delicate gloved one it now covers. "Don't plan on goin' anywhere." He turns, looks up at her, and it's only when she smiles that big warm grin of hers that relief truly floods him.

"You hungry?" she asks, like he's just returned home after a long journey and she's just looking to take care of him.

"Yeah," he grunts, squeezing her hand tight.

She's got the right idea, now that he thinks about it. The journey was long and hard but home was waiting and she's here with it. What excuses did he need when happiness was right in front of him? Absolutely none.


End file.
